


Courting Elements

by Leela



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Biting, Courtship, Elves, Frottage, M/M, Unseelie Court, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:31:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Have you let him taste you yet? Have you slid your tongue over his fangs and shared with him the addictive sweetness that is elven blood?" Queen Mab's fingers dig in deeper, sending sharp pains through Tommy's jaw, and she pulls him up until he's half-kneeling half-standing, desperately trying to keep his balance. "Have you told him what you are? Does he know that he can kill you with a single drop of his blood?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courting Elements

**Author's Note:**

  * For [qafmaniac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/qafmaniac/gifts).



> qafmaniac makes such amazing art. We talked briefly about the banner she posted for the [Glam Reverse Big Bang](http://glam-reverse-bb.livejournal.com/) and I had this crazy idea for a story. Then I started sharing drafts with her as I was writing, and suddenly she fell into the rabbit hole with me. The art... seriously, even if this kind of AU isn't your thing, you have to see the **absolutely spectacularly awesome** banner and section headers she made for this story and leave her some love.
> 
>  **Link to art master post:** DW: <http://qafmaniac.dreamwidth.org/289429.html>.
> 
> Many thanks also to Minxie and Aislinntlc. Without them, their feedback, and their encouragement, this story wouldn't exist. To wynkat, who helped me with all the information you could ever want to know about the four elements and brainstorming the gifts that Tommy gives Adam. And always to batdina, who put up with me disappearing into this story for nights and days on end and still loved me at the end of it all.

∞

Tonight, Tommy barely has enough time after the gig to fix his makeup before Adam's dragging them all out to a club that someone he spoke to somewhere at some point said was the best thing ever to happen to whatever town they're in. Or maybe it's a city this time? Tommy lost track of their itinerary somewhere in Italy... or were they still in Russia when that crazy fan broke into Adam's hotel room?

"Move your lazy ass." Adam's standing in the doorway to the band's dressing room, tapping his foot on the floor, "or we'll leave you behind and you can spend the night moping in your hotel room."

"Like that's a threat." Pouting his lips, Tommy coats them in fresh lip-gloss. Going out dancing, or more likely to watch Adam dance, is pretty damn close to the last thing Tommy wants to be doing right now. _Drama queen_ , he accuses himself and makes a face at the mirror, because he knows he's going. He can't fucking not go, no matter how much he doesn't want to watch Adam pose for pictures, dance, make out, and fucking feed from the twinks who swarm all over him, who get to have Adam when Tommy can't.

Tommy caps the lip-gloss, tosses the tube into his open MASH bag, and turns around. Before he can say anything, Adam's right up in his face. Asshole vampire can move way too damn fast when he wants to.

Sliding a hand up over Tommy's jaw and around to settle at the nape of Tommy's neck, Adam kisses him. It's a sweet kiss, with barely a hint of fangs or tongue, that leaves Tommy licking his lips and using the taste of lip-gloss to chase away the faint metallic tang that Adam always leaves behind.

"We could go back to my hotel room instead," Adam says, and he runs his thumb over Tommy's jugular. "Just you and me."

"Adam, I—" 

The geas that was cast on Tommy when he left the Land tightens around Tommy's throat, a threat and a promise of what will happen if he tells Adam why he can't. He shakes his head instead. 

Instead of backing off as he usually does, Adam leans down until his mouth's only a breath away from Tommy's. "Say yes."

Unable to answer, Tommy licks his lips again. 

"Say yes," Adam repeats, then he sucks the tip of Tommy's tongue into his mouth. 

_Fuck, yes,_ Tommy thinks. And he's half-strangled by the geas as he opens up to Adam. Adam's mouth is cool-hot, and Tommy can feel the drag of Adam's teeth go through him like a shockwave. He licks Adam's lips and his tongue touches the sharp points of Adam's fangs, just enough to remind Tommy why this can't work between them. Not now, anyway. Not the way things are. 

Ending the kiss, Tommy puts his hand on Adam's chest and pushes lightly. 

Adam doesn't argue, but he does back away and hold out his hand to Tommy. There's a hint of pleading behind the hurt in Adam's eyes, and Tommy wants to say yes. He fucking would if he could, but one night with Adam isn't worth dying. Not when he can have forever.

"Fine," Adam says, looking resigned, even though it's clearly not and they both know it. 

After all the times he's rejected Adam, Tommy can't help wondering why he keeps trying. Except Tommy feels it too, that possibility between them. Tommy has done for all the years he's been in Adam's band. And it's been hurting them both for almost as long.

"Just come with me tonight, then."

"Yeah, all right. Just let me—" Tommy turns and begins tossing his stuff into his bag. It doesn't take very long, and when he's done, Adam places a hand in the middle of Tommy's back and ushers him out of the room and out to join the others. Adam talks the whole time, keeping his voice low, and Tommy does his best to ignore him.

Tommy avoids getting caught up in conversation with Adam by moving directly to the backseat. Security gives Adam no choice except to stay up front, where they can see him and he can be seen. 

The club itself is like almost every other club in every other city on the tour: filled with scantily-dressed gorgeous men and women who are there to watch and be watched, loud music that's only occasionally to Tommy's taste, and enough alcohol — most of it free — to make enduring it almost worthwhile. 

Almost. Because Tommy's totally not drunk enough when Adam slips an arm over the shoulders of a delicate-looking guy with silver-blond streaks through his dark red hair, pouty lips, and a hairstyle and outfit that seem designed to draw attention to his neck. The guy snuggles up to Adam and introduces himself as Eddie. 

Brian sings, "He got words that rhyme," under his breath, and Tommy sniggers, raising his glass to Brian, who leans over to whisper in Tommy's ear. "Five bucks says this one'll be history long before we head back to the hotel."

"No bet." Leaning back, sipping his Jack, Tommy tries to look relaxed and unconcerned as he contemplates Eddie. "This one's an octopus. Adam's gonna kiss and run. Forty-five minutes. An hour at the most, and he'll be dragging us back to the hotel."

"How big's the pool tonight?" Ashley settles onto the couch between Tommy and Brian as Adam guides Eddie over to the dance floor. "I'm in for five," she says, giving Eddie a slow once-over. "Put me down for ninety minutes, cutting and running like a bat out of hell."

Seeing Adam dance, the way he shifts Eddie closer and closer to the shadows with every song, is like watching a horror movie; Tommy just can't fucking look away. He sees it all, _feels_ it all. The way Adam slides in behind Eddie, the press of Adam's thumb against Eddie's jaw, the tilt of Eddie's head, the lick of Adam's tongue over Eddie's neck—

"Don't!" Ashley digs her elbow into Tommy's side. "Either do something about it or give it up."

"It's not that simple."

"It's not impossible either. You know he wants you."

Tommy turns and stares at her. She doesn't really have a clue what she's talking about, what he'd have to do to make it possible for him to be with a vampire, but she's not wrong either. He swallows the last of his Jack and changes the subject. "Not any more impossible than us walking past that guitar store today without going in."

That gets Ashley telling Brian all about the bass she fell in love with. She's still describing it, her hands outlining the body for emphasis, when Adam arrives back at the table. 

"C'mon, people. Early bus call tomorrow," Adam says, and stands there with his hands on his hips as if he wasn't the reason why they all went out. 

Tommy pushes up to his feet, swaying a little as the alcohol rushes to his head. As they head for the door, he avoids Adam, avoids thinking about Adam, avoids thinking the words, _not impossible_.

∞

Three days, two concerts, and one more painful rejection of Adam later, Tommy's still getting blindsided by images of what's possible, of what he'd have to do to—

"Yo! Earth to Tommy!" Lisa's voice blasts into Tommy's ears, and he almost pulls off his headphones. He settles for glaring at her over the internet.

"Ow," he says. "Don't fucking do that. I need my hearing."

She frowns at him and leans toward the screen, obviously examining him and not liking what she sees. "Okay, Tommy, tell your big sister what's wrong."

"I'm fine," he says, and forces the corners of his mouth up into a smile. 

"No, you're not. Now give it up. You know it's not worth arguing with me."

Blinking at her, Tommy flattens his hand against his thigh to stop himself from drumming his fingers. "Give what up?"

"Whatever's got you so hyped." 

"It's nothing." Mind spinning through all the possible, and totally unlikely to succeed, ways to get himself out of this bind, Tommy shrugs. "Just tired from the tour, I guess. Too much traveling, not enough sleeping." 

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"Fine." Lisa huffs. "You're not lying, but you're not telling the whole truth either. Spit it out, changeling."

Instinct has Tommy slapping his hand over the screen of his iPad and checking to make sure he closed his hotel room door. "What if I wasn't alone? You fucking well know better than that."

"Like anyone's going to know what I'm talking about." Sticking out her tongue at him, Lisa makes a 'gimme' gesture with her hand. "Talk to me. You know you need to. It's not as if there's anyone else you can talk to." She pauses and gives him a strange look, one that sets off a nervous trembling in his gut, even before she adds, "It is about that, right? And Adam."

"No. I didn't... how could you..." Tommy bites his lip to stop himself from stammering out anything else that would give the whole game away to her.

"Because I'm your sister."

Too full of emotion to be coherent, because she is his sister in all the ways that matter even as much as she really isn't, and yet needing to respond somehow, Tommy flips her off. 

Luckily, she knows him well enough to say, "Love you too, baby brother." Unfortunately, she continues with, "Now talk." 

"It's complicated," Tommy says, pulling his hair down over his face and then pushing it back.

"Well, duh. If it were simple, you'd have told me already."

Tommy stares at his fingernails, picks at the chipped black polish. 

"You want Adam, and Adam wants you. I don't see a problem here."

"It's, like... I dunno..."

"Complicated?" Lisa taps on her laptop, and the crackling hiss makes Tommy jump and glare at her. "You know Mom's pretty much given up on you getting married and giving her grandchildren, right? I think she'll be more relieved than anything else if you show up with Adam."

"Yeah, whatever. She's not the problem, though. She's either gonna forgive me or she's not. This is so fucking far beyond that, it isn't funny." He rubs at his throat. "I don't even know if I can tell you."

"Hold on." Lisa gets up and disappears out of camera range, leaving Tommy with nothing to look at but the back of her chair and the bookcase behind it. A few long seconds later, she's back. "All right. Door's locked. No one's going to accidentally overhear us. Now spill before you explode, and no one wants to be wiping up bits of Tommy Joe Ratliff."

Tommy scrapes off an annoying bit of polish with his teeth and then has to pick it off his tongue. Flicking it away, he says, "You know that I'm not... you know, right?"

"We've been through this, Tommy." Pink briefly fills the side of the screen as Lisa touches her camera, and her voice softens. "You're my brother in all the ways that count. And, even if you finally found the balls to tell Mom that you're a changeling who took the place of her stillborn baby, she wouldn't hate you." Lisa giggles. "She might try to have you committed, but that's another story."

That old joke isn't really funny right now, but Tommy does his best to smile. "I can't really explain," he says, curling up against the headboard of the hotel bed, resting his iPad against his thighs. "It's just that... because of what Adam is and, like, what I am, I can't just get together with him. I'd have to go home. Well, to the Land, anyway."

"But you'd come back?"

"Yeah." Tommy nods and tries again, trying to sound more convinced than he really is. Who the fuck knows what Mab will do if she's in a mood. "Yes, of course."

"I'm not gonna hold you to that, but I might just have to hunt you down if you don't."

The left side of Tommy's mouth twists up in a half-smile, and he presses his palm against his chest. "Oooh... I'm so fucking scared, you have no idea."

"So...?" Drawing out the vowel, Lisa turns the word into a question.

"So," Tommy repeats. "I've gotta get permission to... well, to try and see if he's even interested. Follow the rules and stuff."

"You're not exactly good at that." 

"No shit. That's one of the reasons I'm here and not there. But for Adam... he'd be worth it, you know?"

"Then do it, okay? Stop fucking around and just do whatever you have to do," Lisa says, folding her arms over her chest.

"I have to be back home, in Burbank, at the right time of year if I'm going to make it to the Land in time." Tommy pushes his hair back off his face and considers, mentally comparing human and elven calendars with the tour schedule, trying to make them fit. "Timing would work, I think, if Adam doesn't add any more dates." 

Lisa smiles at him and blows him a kiss. "Now that we've got your future all planned out" she says, "have I told you what Bridget did to that dog figurine Mom loves so much?"

Relief and nerves almost making him dizzy, Tommy lets Lisa's voice wash over him. He laughs in all the right places, but mostly he just loses himself in what passes for normal in his fucked up life.

∞

Storms across the country cancel and delay so many flights that Tommy ends up sprinting through the place he shares with Mike, waving on his way through the living room, and slamming into his bedroom. He dumps his suitcase just inside the door where he probably won't trip over it, lays his backpack and guitar carefully on the bed, then races for the bathroom.

He has to hurry, but he also has to do this right. If he doesn't, he might as well not bother at all and that's not acceptable. So he slows down in the shower, even washes his hair. It'll be harder to handle like that, but he doesn't want to give the Queen any reason to take insult. 

Besides, he thinks, as he squints at his reflection in the fogged over mirror, he's going to the Land. He can use magic for this. A towel wrapped around his hips, he dives across the hall into his bedroom to finish getting ready.

His hair ends up being the easiest part. A slide of his fingers through it, sparking with a spell that prickles his scalp, gets the color exactly right and smoothes it back from his forehead, high enough to show off his widow's peak and emphasize the points of his ears.

When everything else is done, Tommy draws the swirls around his eyes that act as identification and art. Black becomes red becomes purple, announcing his lineage and his family's Dark Neutral affiliation. His black leather formal attire fits perfectly, covering him from the high neck to the thigh-high boots. His father's Summer Court heritage is evident in the silver sword he straps to one hip, and his mother's Winter Court family in the curved obsidian dagger that graces his other hip. There's always a danger in wearing these reminders of his parents before Queen Mab, but that just makes Tommy more determined to do so. 

Besides, she might just decide to punish him for daring to go back without an invitation. What's one more minor offense in the scheme of things?

He turns his head, hangs silver bells from the holes in his right ear, and laces black wire through the ones in his left. 

Against custom, he leaves his hands ringless. Because he has to have something that's him in the middle of all this ritual shit, he fastens silver and black leather gauntlets on his forearms instead. Last of all, he picks up the necklace Adam gave him and hangs it around his neck. 

He fucking loves this outfit but totally hates its formality. Hates that he only ever does it because he has to, not because he wants to. 

When Tommy's ready, when he can't delay any longer, he moves to the back of his closet. A wave of his hand parts the clothes hung there, revealing a floor to ceiling mirror. The frame is tarnished from lack of use. He rises up onto his toes and stretches up to touch the fingers of his left hand to the fire opal that gleams darkly at the top center. 

A prick of magic draws blood, soaking the stone. The frame flashes bright silver. Black edged with red rolls over the glass. And Tommy steps through.

The Land is dark gray fog this time. As Tommy stands there, drumming his fingers against his thighs, it shifts and turns itself inside-out to become a large grotto. The light is dark at the edges, only bright where it shines on the dark amethyst throne. 

Tommy steps onto the path. He can hear a murmur of sound from the invisible throng of courtiers on either side — useless assholes most of them — but he shuts them out. He needs all his concentration for the ground beneath him, the stalagmites on either side, and the stalactites that hang threateningly overhead. Each step he takes towards the throne is a fucking test, not that he has a clue what the Winter Queen will demand from him this time. Her favor is a dicey proposition even for those who rank among her chosen, which Tommy never has and never will.

His breathing is a little quicker than usual when he reaches the throne. Keeping his eyes on the elaborately painted, narrow bare feet that rest on an amethyst footstool, Tommy sinks to his knees. 

"Well, child, what would possibly be so important to draw you out of your self-imposed exile?" Queen Mab's musing, not really speaking to Tommy. "We could guess, of course. Your utter failure to keep to the shadows ensures that news of your life amongst the humans reaches us even here."

Her enchantments tug at Tommy, encourage him to lift his head, to look at her face instead of her feet, but he knows better. Mab is beautiful, entrancing and spiteful, generous to a fault when moved and quick to punish when her rules — written and unwritten, known and unknown — are broken.

"Your Majesty honors me," Tommy says, reciting the archaic formal words and holding his opinions tight within his mind where she can't reach them. "I beg thine indulgence for my absence from thy court these long years and humbly request thy permission to participate in the courtship ritual, to court the mate of my heart."

"My indulgence?" The tap of long sharp nails against amethyst almost gets Tommy to look up, but he manages to stop himself at the last minute. "In return for what, child?"

And there it is, the fucking trap is yawning wide, exposing sharp pointed teeth, and Tommy has no choice but to step into it. "What do you wish, my Queen?"

"Nothing truly important," she says, waving dismissively. "I merely wish you to take back up your lute and play for me some day."

Tommy fights to keep his face as expressionless as he can, forcing himself not to frown at her. He bows his head. "At your service."

"Of course you are." 

"Now, tell me about this—" She pauses, and Tommy can feel the weight of her gaze, her magic, sweeping over him.

"Adam Lambert," Tommy says into the silence. 

Her laugh is the chime of bells, the tinkle of shattering glass, the scrape of nails over amethyst. It forces Tommy to glance up at her through his eyelashes. She's smiling, sweetly enough to scare the crap out of him. For a moment, he considers withdrawing his request, backing off and heading back home with his tail between his legs, but that would mean giving up his one chance to be with Adam.

Just the thought of that, of giving up before he's even tried, makes something ache deep within Tommy. He straightens his back and lifts his head so that he's looking directly into her eyes. "He's a vampire," he says, "and I want him for my mate."

Queen Mab's smile widens, and she holds out a hand. The captain of the Queen's Guard materializes at her side to help her to her feet and then disappears again. She walks towards Tommy, coming to a stop directly in front of him and placing a hand under his chin. She refuses to bend down, so his head is pulled back at a near-painful angle. Her long nails dig crescents into his skin.

Feeling her trap snapping shut around him, Tommy continues to meet her eyes.

The moment stretches out and out, until she finally says in a musing and amused tone, "A dark creature, how refreshing. I almost expected you to choose Summer court like your mother or—" her mouth twists in a sneer "—a half-breed like your late uncle."

There's nothing Tommy can say that won't send him headlong into even more disgrace than he's already in, so he clamps his mouth shut on the words _fucking bitch_.

"Have you let him taste you yet? Have you slid your tongue over his fangs and shared with him the addictive sweetness that is elven blood?" Her fingers dig in deeper, sending sharp pains through Tommy's jaw, and she pulls him up until he's half-kneeling half-standing, desperately trying to keep his balance. "Have you told him what you are? Does he know that he can kill you with a single drop of his blood?"

"No," Tommy whispers. "You know I can't. You made sure of it."

Unbidden, unwanted, Tommy finds himself remembering Adam, the cool aching warmth of the last kiss they shared, the hurt in Adam's eyes when Tommy had to push him away without explanation.

Tommy blinks and finds himself looking in Queen Mab's eyes. She did that, he realizes. She forced him to remember, pulled Adam out of him so she could fucking peep into their lives and feelings. His upper lip peels back from his teeth, and he snarls, "You can't—"

"Oh, but I can," she says, interrupting him. Her grip on his jaw eases, becoming almost a caress. "You have my permission." 

"My lady is most gracious." Caught between anger and relief, Tommy almost has to force the ritual words out.

"And you have one month," she adds. "Four quarters of the moon." She smiles at him knowingly. "Do not disappoint me, child. My patience for your family's eccentricities is limited. I expect to see you and your vampire at the final courtship ritual." 

Then Queen Mab drags her nails across his skin and releases him. She raises her hand to her mouth and delicately licks his blood off her thumbnail. Then, before Tommy can say anything, she waves her hand in a gesture of dismissal and he finds himself flying through the air and slamming to the floor of his closet. The mirror is dark and tarnished once again.

All of Tommy's tentative plans for his first courting gift are shattered when Adam announces that they're flying over to Japan, adding a last-minute gig to the beginning of his month-long promo spin through Europe — as if, somehow, Japan is on the way to England from LA. Some pop star whose name Tommy barely recognizes has been ordered into rehab, and Adam was tapped to fill in for him at the festival. On the fucking new moon, of course.

Even worse, they're going to be onstage at the exact moment when he's supposed to present Adam with the gift and the invitation. Fuck his life anyway, because he's got to make this work. Someone from Mab's court is bound to be there, watching to make sure he follows the rules. Then again, the first gift, the gift of air, is supposed to be presented in public, and what's more public than a concert?

Tommy leans back in his chair, props his feet up on the coffee table, and raises his right hand. A flick of his wrist sets the pendant to twirling. The sapphire catches the sunlight streaming in through the window and splashes color around the room. He watches the reflected light for a while, occasionally moving his hand to change the pattern. When the blue rainbow hits the intricate origami basket filled with paper flowers that a fan gave him at the airport, a slow smile spreads over his face. 

It could totally work, he decides, as he reaches for his phone. All he needs is the right paper, someone who knows origami, and a bit of magic.

∞

The concert is the usual crazy combination of hurry, wait, and race your ass off to get to the stage. For the first couple of songs, Tommy's distracted in ways he usually isn't. He doesn't fuck up; he's played these songs way too often for that, but he's all too aware of what's coming to lose himself in the music.

Adam clearly notices, moving behind Tommy instead of standing next to him during the third song, and pulling him closer. Adam's body is warm behind Tommy. His hand is a heated brand splayed over Tommy's chest. It's wonderful and grounding, and Tommy rubs the side of his head against Adam's arm in thanks. The crowd is screaming by the time Adam dances away, and Tommy's able to lose himself in the music, in the movement of his fingers over the strings, and the gorgeous sound of Adam's voice.

Then they're on the last song, and it's finally time. 

_This fucking better work_ is all he can think as he leans into Brian during the encore, back-to-back, guitar-to-keytar. When Adam sinks to his knees at the front of the stage, Tommy forgoes his pick and plucks a pair of strings with his fingers, feeding his magic into the music.

An orb of blue light forms above Adam's head. A moment or two later, the audience notices and a few of them point towards it. Then Adam rises up on his knees, arches back, and sees it. He extends the note he's singing, sliding into an unplanned vocal riff as he reaches up with his free hand toward the orb. 

When Adam's fingers touch the light, it bursts open and a crane made of thick shiny blue paper flutters in the air for a moment before gliding down to land on Adam's fingers.

"What the fuck brilliant idea has he had now?" Brian mutters under his breath.

Adam falls silent, as do Keisha and Reyna. Terrance and Johnny slink to the floor on either side of Adam. Tommy stops playing, and the others follow a fraction of a second later. The crowd quietens down, nothing more than curious whispers broken by the occasional unintelligible shout.

Even the lighting guy seems to realize that something special is about to happen. The rest of the stage falls into darkness, leaving only a single spotlight on Adam as he brings his hand, and the crane, down. 

"What is this?" Adam wonders aloud, the mic picking up his voice and throwing it across the venue. 

Tommy swallows and presses his hand over the strings of his guitar. He bites his lip, holding in all the words that he can't say without ending up being strangled by the geas in front of thousands of people. 

Then Adam jams the mic between his thighs, freeing up his left hand so that he can touch the crane with one trembling finger. 

Hardly able to breathe over the constriction in his chest, Tommy watches Adam's fingertip slowly — oh-so-damn fucking slowly — get closer and closer to the crane. His fingers are white-knuckled around his guitar, as Adam traces a line from the crane's head to the tip of its tail.

Brian steps away from his mic stand and mutters, "What the fuck," as the magic activates with a slight tug somewhere near Tommy's heart. 

The crane preens under Adam's touch. Its wings flutter, and it rises up in the air to float a couple of inches over Adam's hand before it settles back down onto Adam's open palm and unfolds to reveal the necklace lying in the center. 

Adam tilts his head and stares at the writing on the inside of the paper, at the invitation. His forehead wrinkles into a frown, and Tommy almost chokes on the lump in his throat. The wording is formal, almost impersonal, following the etiquette of the courtship ritual. Nothing more than a request to allow Tommy to court him according to the laws of the elven courts.

Picking up the pendant by the long silver chain, Adam tucks the paper into a pocket of his leather jacket. He holds out his hand and the pendant drops to swing from his fingers. The sapphire flashes deep blue in the spotlight, the silver dragon wing gleams, and Adam smiles.

Then he turns around, still on his knees, to face Tommy. "Put this on me?"

After a few seconds of confusion, the crowd claps and roars, screaming Adam's name, and even occasionally Tommy's, but Tommy ignores them and Brian's continued muttering. He only has eyes for Adam, for the acceptance in them, as he shifts his guitar around to his back and walks towards Adam. 

Tommy's hands are trembling, and he's infinitely glad that he doesn't have to undo the chain to put it around Adam's neck. 

The silver is bright, the sapphire almost as dark as the black of Adam's t-shirt and leather jacket. There's a quick brush of Adam's lips against the bare skin of Tommy's wrists, enough to seal the magic and Adam's acceptance. Then Adam's pushing to his feet, spinning around, and Tommy has to fumble to get his guitar around fast enough to hit his cue.

∞

They walk off stage and into insanity. Adam is whisked away by Tami, the label rep, to talk to someone about something that absolutely cannot wait. After dodging a couple of guys speaking in rapid-fire Japanese, who are pushing past them to get to the stage, Tommy has to force himself not to turn around and go back to get his guitars.

"Gabe's got them," Ashley says, linking arms with him. "You've got far more important things to worry about. Like explaining to me what just happened."

"How should I know?"

Brian falls into step on Tommy's other side. "You suck at playing innocent." 

"No, I really don't."

"Yes, you really do." Ashley smiles at him. "I've no idea how you managed whatever that was out there, but there's no way I'm going to believe it wasn't you."

"Not a chance." Brian smirks at him. 

Before Tommy can come up with a plausible answer, they're guiding him past a scowling security guard, into Adam's empty dressing room, and pushing him down into a chair in front of the lighted mirror. 

Ashley perches on the counter, one foot on the arm of Tommy's chair, and the other up on counter so she can rest her chin on her knee. She stares at him so intensely that it's almost unnerving. 

"Spill." Brian crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the counter next to Ashley.

"About what?" Tommy asks, wriggling resentfully. The chair's set up for someone Adam's size, which means Tommy's feet don't really reach the floor. He slides down in the chair, seeing if that helps, then sits up again and tries to bring one foot up and under the other thigh. It's awkward and not quite comfortable, because the chair isn't wide enough.

"The necklace, Tommy," Ashley says, " and whatever was on the piece of paper that Adam folded up so carefully."

"Not to mention how the fuck you got that crane to fly," Brian adds.

"Magic," Tommy says, because why the hell not. The geas slips a noose around his throat, and he brings his fingers to his mouth, chewing on a nail to disguise his reaction.

Brian rolls his eyes, and Ashley kicks him.

Pulling his fingers away, Tommy makes a face at them because, seriously, that's what he gets for telling them the truth? "Magic," he repeats. "Or at least that's what the little old Japanese dude told me when I paid him to set it up." Which is partly the truth, because the guy had described his origami crane as magical. 

The look Ashley gives him makes it clear that she knows he's holding something back, but there's fuck-all Tommy can do about that. He isn't willing to risk the geas for them, not over this at least.

"Anything we can do to help?"

Ashley's question takes Tommy by surprise. "Umm," he manages in response, which isn't even an answer, but it's all he's got. 

"Adam's always been easy for you." The thoughtful glint in Brian's eyes sends a warning prickle down Tommy's spine. "So why give him a gift in front of everyone? Hell, why give him a gift at all? All you have to do is say yes to him."

"A vampire thing?" Ashley asks, cocking her head bird-like.

"Nah," Brian says. "Vampires are more into the way blood tastes and smells. At least from what I've been told." He gives Tommy another considering gaze. "I've never heard anything about vampires requiring gifts from their mates."

"I'm not his—" Cutting himself off, Tommy asks ruefully, "Why do I let you do this to me? I should fucking know better by now."

"Because you love us?" Ashley pokes Tommy's knee with the pointed toe of her boot. 

Tommy's saved from answering by the door opening and Adam walking into the room followed by Tami. There's a pause before Adam says, "Okay, then. Everyone out, except Tommy." When no one moves, he snaps, "Now!"

A few seconds later, Tommy's alone in the room with Adam. He looks up at Adam's reflection in the mirror. He wonders, yet again, about all the human legends about vampires. So many of them are untrue that it feels like a conspiracy to ensure the survival of vampires. After all, if humans don't really know how to kill them...

The chair turns around, and he finds himself facing Adam. The necklace is still around Adam's neck, and Adam's got a hand curled around it, holding the pendant. Tommy reaches out, touches Adam's hand with his fingers. It's still so fucking amazing to him that Adam accepted it. 

Tommy's near-trance is broken when Adam asks, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Surprise has Tommy admitting, "I wanted to, but there's a fucking—" 

He lets go of the necklace and reaches for his throat, fighting to breathe past the spell that's choking him. "Motherfucker," he croaks. "I hate that fucking shit."

"What the hell was that?" Adam gently wipes the tears from Tommy's cheeks. "And can I kill whoever did it to you?"

Tommy shakes his head and rasps out, "Fuck, no. She'd have your head before you could get close enough."

Adam's fingers trace a path over Tommy's cheekbone and up to his ears. The cartilage tingles as Adam caresses it, and Tommy can feel it shift a little. It's the only answer he can give Adam, and he hopes it's enough.

"Oh." Adam rubs his thumb over Tommy's industrial piercing. "Unseelie?"

"Dark. Neutral." Tommy spits the words out before the geas tightens again.

Adam holds him as he chokes again, and Tommy can feel the anger thrumming through him. It's reassuring and frightening at the same time. When Tommy can breathe again, Adam says in the same sweet tone of voice he uses on the soundboard guys, "I suppose I really can't kill her." 

He looks so put out that Tommy can't help but chuckle. "Not worth a war."

"You really are, but I'll manage. I haven't killed Neil yet, after all, and I've had to put up with his shit for more decades than I like to count."

Adam licks his lips and moves his hand down from Tommy's ear to the nape of his neck. "My answer," Adam says, "is yes." Then he leans in and kisses Tommy. His lips are soft and gentle, his tongue careful, and his fangs as retracted as they ever get. 

"Yes," he repeats, breathing the word over Tommy's lips. 

All Tommy can do is smile at him and kiss him back.

Slumping down in his chair, Adam tunes his publicist out about five minutes into the Skype call. The connection's shit, which isn't what he expected from Brisbane. Still, the occasional fuzz of static across Susanna's face doesn't prevent him from feeling her displeasure. Then again, no matter how good she's been for him and his career, this has nothing to do with her at all. He reaches up to touch the necklace that's been around his neck almost constantly since Tommy put it on him.

An elf? How had he missed that so completely? Now that he knew, Tommy's maddening, enticing, nearly irresistible scent, and his absolute refusal to let Adam do more than kiss him, made perfect sense. 

A loud slap catches his attention and draws it back to his laptop. Susanna is glaring at him through the screen. 

"Pay attention, Adam," she says. "This isn't something you can just ignore. Our phones and email have been going crazy. The press has got hold of this story, and they're not going to let it go. We need to have a hook for it."

"A hook?" Adam frowns as he realizes that he really should have been listening to her. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Her sigh sounds like a hiss through his speakers. "Just answer this one question: Is it going to happen again or was this a one-time event?"

"Do you mean on stage?"

"On stage. Off stage. Anywhere that people with cameras are likely to catch you and Tommy in action."

Resisting the urge to bare his fangs at her, Adam leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "What business is it of yours? Or anyone else's?"

"You made it my business when you hired me. Now if you want to keep that lovely career of yours, pay attention."

"Yes, ma'am." Adam manages not to add a sarcastic salute, barely.

"I need to know what's going on," Susanna says, the upward curve of her lips belying the impatience in her voice. 

"It's personal," Adam says, because it is and because he doesn't want to expose Tommy without talking to him first, not even to someone they both trust.

"Not when it happens on stage."

A familiar voice outside his hotel room catches Adam's attention just before the door opens and Tami pushes Tommy inside. She closes the door without following him in.

"Fine," Tommy says, pushing his hair out of his face. "Be like that." 

Adam turns around and just looks. Tommy seems to have been dragged out of bed. His hair is sticking up in some places and flattened in others. His face is bare of makeup, and he's wearing the loose sweatpants and NIN t-shirt that are usually his 'not leaving my hotel room for anything less than the end of the earth' wear.

When Tommy sees Adam, he stalks toward him. "What the fuck? This is my day off. I had plans."

Arching an eyebrow at Tommy's outfit, Adam points toward his laptop screen. "This one isn't on me."

"Of course not." Tommy hitches up his sweatpants before he sits down in the chair next to Adam's. He turns to Adam with a smile and says, "Hi," very softly.

His scent winds around Adam, and Adam licks his lips. Now, though, knowing that Tommy wants him, it seems sweeter, more attractive. He wants to reach out and pull Tommy closer, to bare Tommy's neck and feel the steady beat of Tommy's heart against his lips. Adam blinks, gives himself a mental shake, and smiles back. "Hi."

"Tommy," Susanna says.

"Hey, Susanna. What's up?"

"What's up?" She shakes her head at him. "Why don't you tell me? Because it would be useful for Adam's publicist to know what to tell people about whatever happened on that stage in Tokyo."

"Shit."

"Can't we just put it down to special effects for the concert?" Adam asks, not for the first time.

And, not for the first time, Susanna ignores that suggestion. "Tommy? What's going on?"

Tommy gives Adam a wide-eyed pleading glance and starts drumming his fingers on his thigh.

"It's not easy to explain," Adam says. "In fact, we can't really explain until it's all over and done with."

"Why not?"

"There are rules."

"For what?"

Tommy's left leg starts bouncing, and an urge to lash out on his behalf flickers through Adam. It doesn't last though, because he knows Susanna is just doing her job.

"Is it a vampire thing?"

"Not exactly," Adam says.

Clearly frustrated and looking like she wants to reach through the screen and strangle them, Susanna blows out a breath. "What. Exactly. Is it?"

"Three more times," Tommy says, not answering her question. "That's what you need to know. Adam will get three more gifts. Not all of them on stage." His forehead creases as he thinks. "Only one more coincides with a concert. The others will happen on off days."

"What do I say to the press? Can I tell them what's going on? Hell, can you tell me what's going on?"

Tommy shakes his head. "Can't," he says and swallows hard in a way that has Adam clenching his hands into fists and his fangs dropping down into place. "It's gotta stay private until it's all done." 

"But you're doing it in public."

"I know!" Tommy tugs on his hair. "I fucking know that, all right? But I can't do a damn thing about it. These things have fucking rules, and I'm not willing to lose my chance by breaking them."

Adam places a hand on Tommy's knee, stilling his leg. "Why not let them speculate for a while? It's not bad publicity."

"Unless they get it completely wrong and end up looking like idiots," Susanna snaps. "Then it will come back to bite us."

"They can talk about it being a vampire thing without ending up completely wrong," Adam admits, feeling compelled to give her something. "That's just not the main part of it."

"Look," Tommy says. "I can't promise you that you'll be able to tell them the whole truth even when this is over and done with. The rules—" he makes a face and rubs at his throat in a way that has Adam growling.

"What the hell?" Susanna asks at the same time as Tommy glares at Adam and says, "Stop that."

"I can't just accept it."

"Then help me end it." 

"Guys," Susanna says, "this isn't helping."

"Exactly." Tommy looks smug. "That's what I keep telling him."

"Don't." Adam jumps to his feet so fast that his chair topples over. He steps over to Tommy, places his hands on the back of Tommy's chair, and leans over him. So close that he can feel Tommy's breath on his mouth, hear the quick thud of his heart. "Don't ever expect me to just accept it when someone hurts you. There are ways to do that without causing pain, we both know that. So just fucking don't."

Contrition fills Tommy's eyes, and he brushes his lips over Adam's. "Yeah," he says. "Okay. I'm sorry."

Adam wants to kiss him back, would have kissed him back, but he's too aware of Susanna watching everything they're doing. He goes to stand behind Tommy's chair, resting one hand on Tommy's chest, just below his neck, and looks straight into Susanna's eyes. "It's because I'm a vampire," he says. "And because Tommy isn't. There are rules he has to follow, if he — if we," he corrects himself, "want to have a relationship. Humans aren't the only ones who object to interspecies relationships."

It's as much of the truth as Adam thinks they'll ever be able to tell, even if it implies that Tommy is human. Queen Mab would set the Wild Hunt after anyone who dared to so much as hint at having proof that elves were real. 

_Queen Mab_ , Adam thinks, _and Tommy had said she_. Adam's fingers tighten in Tommy's shirt as he understands. 

Tommy reaches up and puts a hand over Adam's, and Adam releases his shirt and laces their fingers together. 

"But why the gifts? And how did you make that crane fly?"

Some of the tension leaves Tommy's body, and he says, "Special effects." 

Susanna gives him a look of disbelief, and Tommy adds, "Seriously. I got the crane from an Japanese guy that our guide recommended. I can't tell you how it worked."

A lie of omission wrapped in truth, and Susanna is clearly buying all of it. Adam would feel guilty, but this is really none of her business no matter what she believes. 

"Okay," Susanna says. "Three more gifts. What if we turn it into a thing? People would eat that up. Tommy courting his vampire." 

Tommy's hand tightens, and Adam can feel his tension ratcheting back up again. There's danger in the vibration under Tommy's skin, and it takes Adam a moment to understand that it's Tommy's magic. And that the danger isn't to Adam. 

"No," Adam says. "We're not turning it into a thing. This is deadly serious for us."

Her mouth twisting unhappily, Susanna nods. "All right. Just... can you at least let me know when the gifting will happen, so I can be prepared?"

"Yep," Tommy says. "Once Adam gets the fuck out of here." He smiles up at Adam. "Some things need to be a surprise." 

Adam makes a token protest, but he can't help smiling as he heads out the door to find some of the guys and drag them downstairs for lunch. He's being courted. By an elf. How cool is that?

It's not until he's in the hotel restaurant, listening to Brian and Ashley talk about the custom hand-made instruments they found in a shop earlier that afternoon, that Adam puts three things together. Elves usually shun humans. Tommy is an elf. Tommy is an elf living as a human, with a human family. 

He needs answers to that mystery before they bond.

∞

There's no gift at the next promo gig, or the two appearances after that. Adam checks the moon phases, but that's no help at all. Tommy has to be working with the calendar of his Elven realm, not the human one, and they're not the same. Since Adam has no way to find out what that calendar is, short of asking Tommy, he does his best to put it out of his mind.

Except that's easier said than done. Especially now that he knows this is going to be forever, if it works. The only way to stop him from draining Tommy dry, from drinking up all of that delicious, sweet-tasting Elven blood—

"Earth to Adam." Brian waves a hand in front of Adam's eyes. "Where you at?"

Adam would have blushed if that was possible. It's been too long since he fed for that to happen though. "Just thinking."

Brian darts a meaningful gaze at Tommy, who's sitting on the floor, playing some kind of complicated poker game with Ashley and Gabe. "Can't imagine what about," he says. "Still no second gift, huh?"

"Gotta happen sometime soon. Unless he's changed his mind." At that thought, Adam puts his glass of red wine down on the side table and pushes it away. 

"Aw, hell no. Tommy's not gonna do that. Trust me. He hasn't had eyes for anyone but you since I joined up, and probably way before that." Brian nudges Adam's shoulder with his own. "You gotta trust a bitch."

"I'm working on it."

Tommy's laugh echoes through the living room of Adam's hotel suite, and Adam glances over to find himself meeting Tommy's eyes. Tommy's smile brightens and he blows Adam a kiss before turning back to the game. He tilts his head as he considers his cards, and his hair falls sideways. His jugular gleams blue and tempting through the pale skin of his neck. 

Once again Brian interrupts Adam's thoughts, this time by asking, "You hungry?"

"No," Adam blurts out, even though his gums ache at the base of his fangs and he has to fight to drag his eyes away from Tommy's neck and over to Brian.

"Bullshit. I've seen that look before a hundred times. You need to feed and soon. None of us want to be looking for a new guitarist, least of all you." 

"I wouldn't..." Adam trails off, because he would. Damn it. He so fucking would if given the tiniest taste of Tommy's blood.

"I've got no idea what the fuck he really is, but... yeah, you would," Brian says, standing up and holding out his hand to Adam. "Come on. Let's get this shit done, so I can crawl into bed and get some sleep before lobby call."

"You don't have to," Adam says, automatically.

"No, but I'm willing, and I don't think you want to go out and troll for twinks tonight."

Adam lets Brian pull him to his feet and follows him to the door of his bedroom. No one says anything, but Adam can feel their eyes following him. 

When the door's shut behind them, giving them a little privacy, Brian moves up against Adam. His heart is beating faster, but there's no hesitation, no fear in him. It's been a while since Adam fed from Brian, not since their Zodiac days, but he's not interested in anything more than feeding right now.

"Relax," Adam murmurs, kissing the side of Brian's neck. He smells faintly of the cigarettes he occasionally smokes and a musky cologne. His pulse thrums through Adam, calling to him. Adam's fangs drop all the way down, and his saliva gets the bittersweet taste that means he's ready to feed. A lick up the thick vein numbs the skin, ensures that Brian will feel good, and then Adam bites. 

A moan escaping him, Brian arches his neck, giving Adam better access, and Adam drinks just enough to quench his hunger. When he's done, he licks up Brian's neck, sealing the puncture wounds, and healing them, and steps back.

"Shit. I forgot what a fucking trip that is." Brian smiles at Adam. "You can do that again, you know. Any of us would be willing."

"I don't like to—"

Brian places a finger on Adam's lips. "Shut up, you, and stop acting like such a fool. You've got people who care about you. Let them help once in a while." And with that Brian turns around and heads out the room, closing the door behind him. 

There are murmured conversations in the living room, but Adam doesn't bother trying to listen. Instead, he distracts himself from thinking about what Brian has suggested by going into the bathroom to wash his face and clean off the remnants of his make-up. When he feels like he can face his friends again, Adam heads for the living room.

It's empty. They've all left him to himself. Given the time and their early call in the morning, Adam should have expected it and not felt abandoned, but he does. He goes to the chair he was sitting in before, flops down into it, and picks up his glass.

As if that's a signal, the air bursts into flames a couple of feet in front of Adam's face. Feeling the blood pumping through his veins, he sits up straighter. His nostrils twitch, but he can't smell smoke. Just that elusive scent that means Tommy.

Smiling, hopeful, Adam discards the glass and reaches for the flames. They're cool to the touch, curving around his hand until he has them cupped in his palm. Then, with a burst of black-edged red, they vanish and leave him holding a heavy black box.

Adam brings it down to his lap carefully and strokes his finger over the top. More flames rise up from the surface to twine around his fingers and disappear. A red dragon appears in the lid, as if burned into it. Curious, Adam touches it, and the box opens with a quiet click.

Inside, six flame-shaped crystals are nestled in black velvet. Adam picks up one, and the oil inside catches the light. It smells of patchouli. 

"Yes," Adam says. breathing deeply, picturing his fingers glistening with that oil. "A thousand times yes."

"What are you?"

Ashley's question jolts Tommy's concentration, but he doesn't acknowledge it until he's finished casting the spell on the mirror that's lying on the table in front of him. As soon as the deep purple light has faded into the liquid surface of the glass, he covers it with a piece of dark purple velvet and turns around.

She's standing at the foot of his bed, feet apart, tapping a room key against her leg. His room key. "You're not a vampire and you're definitely not human. Werewolf?" 

Tommy shakes his head. "Nope."

Stepping around the bed, Ashley gives him a slow once-over, her gaze sweeping slowly from his head to his toes and back up again. "Should I be afraid?"

"Nope."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes?" It comes out a question, even though Tommy doesn't quite mean it that way. It's just that he can't say more than that. He can't even move. This could lose him everything, because he can't tell Ashley. He can barely even think the word she wants to hear. The geas is getting worse, its noose tightening with every question he's asked, every answer he's wanted to give.

"Will you tell me?"

"Can't."

Ashley nods, as if he's confirmed her suspicions. "Would you tell me if you could."

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Tommy whispers, "Yes." The truth of it rocks him. He'd not only tell her; he'd tell almost all of these humans that Adam calls his glamily, who have become Tommy's second family. 

Her hug is tight and unexpected. Tommy has to blink against a prickling in his eyes, as he wraps his arms around her and hugs her back. 

"That's all I need to know," Ashley says, rising up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. She lets go of him, but keeps one arm around his waist as she gestures at the table with her free hand. "So, you going to tell me what this is?"

"A gift?" 

"Ass." She laughs and bumps him with her hip. "I know it's a gift. What is it?"

Tommy tightens his hold on her and stops her from moving towards the table. This one is far too private to be shared with anyone. "It's a mirror." 

"For Adam?"

"Yes."

The terseness in Tommy's voice draws a look of curiosity from Ashley. Then she smiles at him. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He almost turns her down, but then he changes his mind. He's doesn't have enough energy left to create everything for this gift himself. That last spell, the one that really matters, took too much out of him. "Come shopping with me? Help me find something to put the mirror in?"

"Yes!" Ashley bounces a little on her high heels. "Johnny and Terrance and I found this cool store down one of the side streets, not that far from the hotel. They even speak English."

With one last glance at the velvet covering the table, Tommy goes to find a pair of shoes he can walk in. He's learned the hard way that shopping with Ashley never ends at the first store.

∞

Shopping ends up being worse than anything in Tommy's wildest nightmares. They run into Keisha and Reyna on their way out, and then there are four of them.

"Not enough money in the world," Tommy mutters as he stumbles into the hotel lobby when it's all over. To make it abso-fucking-lutely perfect, he didn't find anything to fit his mirror. Nothing that was worthy of it, at least. And he isn't too damn picky, thank you very much.

"We can try again later," Ashley says. 

Before Tommy can come up with a response that doesn't involve every swear word he knows, a group of fans surround them, shoving phones in their faces and calling out their names.

"Pictures please."

"Just one, with whole group." 

"You're so beautiful."

"Please to sign this!"

"Love your singing. Such wonderful playing. Perfect band for a perfect singer." 

"For giving to Adam, please."

Tommy's head snaps up, and he has to bite his lip to hold in the angry words that want to spill out of him, to clench his hands to stop himself from striking out at a pretty girl who just wants to give Adam a gift.

"I'll take it." Keisha gives Tommy the kind of look that tells him he didn't fool her. "Let me see what I can do."

The fans chorus, "Thank you," and a few minutes later, after one too many flashes have gone off in Tommy's face, they back away. 

"Elevators," Ashley says, grabbing Tommy's arm and dragging him towards them. 

Pulling free, he dives for the first available one. He punches the button for his own floor and waits impatiently, foot jiggling as he holds the open button, for the others to get in.

Reyna takes one look at him and presses the button for Adam's floor. "Go talk to your man and shake this shit off. We've got a concert tomorrow night."

"I can't—" Tommy begins, but then he hesitates. Tradition isn't the same as a rule, and there's no rule saying he can't be there when Adam gets the third gift. "Fine, but I've got to go to my floor first. I need to pick something up."

"Ooohhh,.. another present for him?" Keisha asks. "Can we see?"

"Not this one," Ashley answers before Tommy can tell Keisha to fuck off. "I think this one's supposed to be private."

"Well, shit. Can't blame a girl for asking." 

The elevator dings and a guy talking non-stop into his phone joins them. Tommy would usually be annoyed, but this guy's totally saving his ass. There's no way anyone's talking about his business around a stranger. His floor is next and he jumps out with a wave and a call of "Later" before anyone can offer to come with him. 

Once the mirror is safely wrapped in the purple velvet, for want of anything more appropriate, Tommy digs his phone out of his pocket and calls Adam. "You upstairs?" he asks as soon as Adam answers.

"Yep. Just finishing up with Brian. We're making some changes to the set list for tomorrow."

"Cool," Tommy cuts in before Adam can continue. "Got a minute for me?"

"Bye, Brian," is Adam's response, and Tommy snickers. 

"Be right up." 

"And I'll be canceling all my plans for tonight."

Tommy smiles as he shoves his phone into his pocket, then hitches his jeans back up. He thinks briefly about freshening up, sorting out his hair and makeup, but doesn't do anything more than pick up the velvet-wrapped package and head for the door.

He's still not sure he wants to do this, but he knows that he needs to.

∞

Tommy's twitching by the time he walks into Adam's suite. He doesn't even know why he's so nervous. He didn't do anything wrong, not really. It's all about guilt by association, and he hates that fucking shit.

"Hey." Adam pulls him into a hug as soon as the door is closed and Tommy's put the mirror down on the couch. "Everything okay?"

"It's fine," Tommy says, even though it only mostly is. He slides his arms around Adam's waist and lifts his face for a kiss. It's like he hasn't seen Adam in forever, even though the whole crew ate breakfast together that morning and played together the night before.

Adam's lips are soft and possessive. One of his hands rests on the slight curve of Tommy's ass, pulling their hips together, and the other slides up to the back of Tommy's neck and into his hair. His touch, being this close to him, is like flipping a switch for Tommy. He thrusts his tongue into Adam's mouth, opens up as Adam licks into his mouth. How had he not known that he fucking needed this? 

"We can't," Adam says as he ends the kiss. "Or I can't, not without..." He licks his lips and the sharp tip of one fang becomes visible. 

The urge to bare his neck, to give Adam what he wants, swamps Tommy almost driving him to his knees. It's a hunger like nothing he's ever felt before, all-encompassing, wrapped up in a warmth, a caring, that rocks him. He tightens his grip on Adam's shirt and rests his forehead against Adam's chest, almost panting as he tries to find his control again. "Oh fuck," he says. "What is that?" 

"I felt you." There's wonder in Adam's voice. "That was you, right?"

"And you?" Tommy can hear the same wonder in his own voice. "It's the magic," he says. "It has to be. We're halfway there, you've accepted two gifts, and it's fucking testing us."

Adam's fingers curl in Tommy's hair, and he tugs. Small, sharp, exquisite pains shock through Tommy's scalp as he resists for a moment before letting his head fall back to look up at Adam. Then Adam pulls up, forcing Tommy onto his toes, and presses his lips to the skin just below Tommy's ear. 

"You smell so good, so perfect."

"Not perfect." The denial is automatic.

"For me," Adam says, and Tommy can feel Adam's fangs against his neck. They're pressing in lightly, nowhere near enough to pierce the skin.

All Tommy can feel is hunger and want and need. He raises a leg and curls it around Adam's hip. He's so hard; the pressure of his dick against Adam's thigh is so perfect. Rocking into Adam, Adam's dick rubs against his hip, his stomach. The tip of Adam's tongue touches Tommy's neck, and his arousal spikes higher.

They freeze in place.

"We can't," Tommy says.

"No," Adam replies, correcting him. "We shouldn't."

Drawing a shuddering breath, Tommy goes down off his tiptoes. Adam's teeth scrape his skin lightly as he does it. They pull apart, but end up holding hands. Tommy can't imagine letting go of Adam right now. 

"Maybe we're spending too much time apart?" Adam tugs on Tommy's hand and leads him over to the couch. 

"Maybe?" Scratching the part of his neck that's still tingling from Adam's touch, Tommy curls into Adam's side. "It's not like I have much experience with this stuff, or anyone to ask about it." He brings a finger up to his mouth and worries at a hangnail. "Do know that we're not supposed to do anything until the end." Fucking rules were gonna give him blue balls.

"So neither of us really knows what we're doing?"

"Yeah, I guess." Tommy darts a glance upward and finds himself looking into Adam's eyes. "No one on your side you could ask?"

Adam's lips twist, and he shrugs. "I'm not exactly connected. Most of my... family, for want of a better word, prefer the dark old days of hanging out in coffins and hiding from the light and the humans. I'm a bit of an oddity." 

"I wouldn't know anything about that." 

Adam's laugh has a bit of a snort to it. "Do they mind? Your family? That you're not courting an elf?"

"My—" Tommy sits up and rubs at his chest. "I think they'd be happy if they knew," he finally says. "They were a scandal in their own day, after all. Seelie and Unseelie aren't supposed to bond."

"Damn." Adam shifts forward on the couch and cups a hand under Tommy's chin, turning his face so they're looking at each other. "Whatever it is, I don't care." 

The truth of what Adam's saying is heavy and real under Tommy's skin. He shakes his head though, not in denial, but because Adam doesn't know enough to be sure of that. "Tell me that later," he says.

Unwrapping the mirror only takes a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. Eventually, it's sitting on the table, in the center of the dark purple velvet. The mirror's hexagonal, with a frame made out of beveled glass etched with dragons. 

"A mirror?" Adam touches a finger to the outside edge and the surface ripples. "Or not?"

"A mirror," Tommy confirms, "but one that's charmed to show you what was, before you can use it to see what is."

From the expression on Adam's face, Tommy knows that he gets it, that he understands the mirror isn't really the gift here. 

"What should I do?" Adam asks.

Tommy looks around the room, but there really isn't any better place to do this. "Maybe we could sit on the floor," he suggests. "On either side of the table?"

It takes a couple of minutes for them to move the coffee table out and settle into place. Then Adam has to get back up for tea. Tommy's tempted to ask him for something stronger but decides to leave the alcohol until after this is over. Eventually, though, there's nothing left to do except give Adam his gift. And right about now, he's really wishing that he'd done this from a distance. He doesn't have to be here for the magic to work after all.

Taking a deep breath, Tommy places his hands on either side of the mirror, thumb and forefinger resting on the frame. Adam does the same, and Tommy slides his hands up until their fingertips are touching. It's totally unnecessary, but reassuring.

"Just look into it," he says.

"Oh," Adam breathes, as images rise up from the surface and surround them.

∞

_Tommy knelt on a rough stone floor, his arms tied behind his back, his head bowed. A silver sword and obsidian dagger lay on the floor in front of him, shining dully in the candlelight. His long blue bangs fell forward, covering his face. He was silent and still._

_"You cause us too many problems." Queen Mab was dressed in dark green, the jewels in her crown charmed to match. "They tell me that you were not part of the rebellion. You played your lute, danced with the Wild Hunt, and stayed away from that child who would have stolen my throne. Unlike your cousin."_

_A murmur went up from the crowd surrounding them, snarls, howls, and hisses underlying incomprehensible words._

_"What should we do with you? Your parents are years gone to the Havens. Your mother's family is unsuitable, and you cannot be permitted to join your father's family in the Seelie court. That would be a severe punishment indeed for you, dark child. There is too little of the light in you for you to survive long, and I have no interest in your death."_

_The deep breath that expanded Tommy's chest was the only indication that he was listening._

_"Would you beg for what little indulgence I have to offer?" Mab shifted on her throne, considering him closely._

_"Would it do any good?" Tommy raised his head and looked directly at her. "It's not like I did anything wrong, is it? Other than have my mother's sister marry the wrong elf_ before I was born _."_

_The crowd shifted away from him, and Mab's laugh chimed like dried bones in the wind. "Such a crime it was too. The only one of your family to marry within the Unseelie Court and look how badly she chose."_

_"Dark neutral," Tommy said, sounding resigned. "We're not Unseelie."_

_"Of course you aren't."_

_Mab leaned forward, intent on Tommy, but he just gritted his teeth and remained still._

_After several long seconds, she sighed. "I will miss your music," she said. "This court will sound less interesting without it. Too many of our musicians are happy to simply repeat what was done before, rather than create something new from it."_

_"It's not like you actually encourage anyone to push the boundaries. We're free to run wild, to play tricks and tease, but also bound to the same old rituals. Where's the freedom in that?"_

_"Is that what you want? Freedom to do what you will?"_

_"To make my own music and live my own life."_

_Mab's smile exposed small, sharp teeth. "So be it," she said. "Perhaps a lifetime as a human will teach you about the joy to be found in our Land,_ changeling _."_

_She stood up gracefully and walked away from the throne, only to stop and turn back to Tommy after a few steps. "Oh, before I forget," she said. "You will never ever tell anyone in the human world about ours." Her hand came down sharply, and green magic lashed out from it and wound itself around Tommy's throat._

_He coughed and his arms pulled at his bonds, before he dropped his head again. "As you wish."_

_With another whipcrack of magic, he splintered and disappeared._

∞

"Tommy! Shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do here?"

It takes Tommy a second to recognize Adam's voice from the hissing and snarling of the crowd in his memories. He struggles to rise, but the leash around his neck holds him down and strangles him.

"I really want to kill her, okay? Even if I don't survive, I'll do some serious damage. The kind that bitch will remember for the rest of her miserably long life."

"No." The word scrapes itself out of Tommy's throat, leaving it feeling painful and raw, as if it's drawing blood and choking him with it. 

A cup is held to his lips. "Drink," Adam says, and Tommy obeys. 

"Blech." Tommy starts hacking and coughing, barely remembering to bring a hand up to cover his mouth. When he can talk again, he complains, "I fucking hate that throat coat shit."

"It's good for you," Adam says, as he always does. "Drink more." 

When Adam finally puts the cup on the coffee table, Tommy realizes that he's half-lying on the floor and half-lying across Adam's lap. "What the fuck?" He struggles to sit up and only manages when Adam helps him.

"I thought you were dying, and oh my god, don't you ever do that to me again."

"Aw hell no. It's not like I fucking wanted to do it this time."

Tommy lets Adam hold him for a while, resting his head on Adam's shoulder and just breathing him in, until he remembers. Then he pushes away and turns to face Adam. He licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. "Kind of boring, huh? Nowhere near as exciting as whatever you imagined."

"More than exciting enough for you, I'm sure." Adam reaches forward and runs his thumb over Tommy's lower lip. "If you're asking about the gift, the answer's yes."

Hope and joy rise in Tommy's heart. He twists to pick the mirror up off the table and, resting it on his open palms like an offering, holds it out to Adam. 

"Yes," Adam says again.

Rising to his knees, Tommy places the mirror in Adam's outstretched hands. For a moment, they're both holding on to it, Adam's hands beneath Tommy's, and a shock goes through them. 

"No more memories." Tommy shrugs. "Not until after we're bonded at least. I'd like to make it until then."

Adam sets the mirror back on the table and cups Tommy's face in his hands. "Do that again, and I might have to kill you myself." 

Then he leans over and kisses Tommy, licks into him and opens him up all over again. And, like it's second nature, like it's something he needs as much as he needs to breathe, Tommy lies back and draws Adam down on top of him. He's pressed into the carpet by Adam's weight, grounded by him, held in place by him, kept safe by him. 

He can't help wondering, though, if Adam's kisses will be as sweet when they don't come with the sizzle of danger, the adrenaline rush of almost-death as his tongue enters Adam's mouth, as they kiss and lick and nibble and suck, always conscious of the need to avoid sharing blood.

"Oh my god, this is ridiculous." Adam goes to run a hand through his hair and then drops his hand back down again. No way does he want flat bangs hanging in his eyes tonight. "I'm long past the age when I should be worrying about meeting my future mother-in-law." Especially since he's already met her more than once.

Making a face at himself in the bathroom mirror, he pokes at the dark circles under his eyes — seriously, jet lag or not, vampires shouldn't get that shit. He pushes away from the counter and unlocks the bathroom door, heading back to the private dining room they've booked for this dinner. Why did he think it was a good idea to fly Tommy's family out for the last concert on this promo tour? 

_Courtship_ , Adam's brain prods, and he sighs. Then he sighs again at the thought that it's just Dia in there. This was so not the time for Bridget to get sick. 

"A gay vampire?" 

Hearing Dia's question, Adam startles. He slows down and moves as quietly as he can to lean against the wall, just outside the dining room. The door's closed, but he can hear her as clearly as if they were in the same room. 

"That's not news, Mom," Tommy says. The careful patience in his voice makes it clear that this isn't the first time he's had this conversation with Dia. "You've known what Adam is since the very beginning. It's not like he hides it."

"That's not the point."

Something clinks on the table. Glassware, Adam thinks. It's followed by the faint sounds of a chair moving and of flesh touching flesh. They're closer together, holding hands.

"My point," Dia says, "is that he's gay and a vampire. I don't care about the gay part, as long as he makes you happy."

There's a pause before Tommy whispers, "He'll make me happy. I promise."

Adam blinks and smiles, curling his hands into fists and wrapping his arms around his own torso because he can't hug Tommy. Not without going in there, and this seems way too important for him to interrupt them just to make himself feel better. 

"And the vampire?"

"Humans and vampires get into relationships all the time, you know."

"I'm not stupid, Tommy. I never have been."

"I know that."

Another shift of chair legs against carpet, and a soft sound that makes Adam sure that Dia's holding Tommy. Then she says, "I know what it feels like when the baby inside you dies. To feel like you've failed. To grieve a son you haven't even held in your arms yet." 

"Mom—"

"Hush, let me say this. Just once. I don't know what you are or where you came from. To quote your dad, I don't give a flying fuck." She says the last two words awkwardly, deliberately. "You're my son in every way that counts, just as if you were truly born from my body, and you have been from the minute that a confused and elated doctor put you into my arms."

Tommy sniffs, and Adam closes his eyes, forcing himself to stay put.

"Now, you don't have to explain—"

"I can't."

"Like I said, you don't have to explain. All I need to know is that Adam being a vampire isn't going to hurt you. I don't want to be hunting that boy down in the middle of the day to ram a stake through his heart."

Adam almost pierced his lower lip with his fangs, holding in his amusement at the image of Dia attempting to sneak up on him with a stake. 

Tommy, the asshole, just burst out laughing. "Oh, fuck, Mom. You wouldn't."

"Language, young man, and I most definitely would. No one hurts you and gets away with it if I have something to say about it."

Tommy's laughter dies, and he murmurs, "Love you, Mom."

"I love you too," Dia says, and Adam can hear the sound of a soft kiss. "Now promise me that you and Adam are... compatible."

"We will be. I promise."

"I'm going to hold you to that." After a moment of silence, Dia raises her voice. "You too, Adam. Don't even try to pretend you're not out there listening."

Shock flashes cold and hot through Adam. He swallows hard and forces himself to walk through the door and into the room. Tommy and Dia are smiling. She's standing next to Tommy's chair, and it's clear that she was holding him. But then she moves forward and gives Adam a fierce hug, one that makes him feel small in a way he hasn't for more years than he can count.

"Take care of him," she whispers in Adam's ear. "Or I'll be wanting to know why." Then she moves back and smiles at them both. "Now let's all sit down. You can tell me all the stories from your tour and what you've been doing, so I can go home and make Lisa feel even worse for not being able to come along."

Adam follows her to the table, taking the seat next to Tommy, and they do exactly what she asks. And in the end, when he realizes that he might just have picked up a second mother — and how strange is that after all these years — he begins to relax and enjoy himself.

Afterwards, as they're leaving the restaurant, Adam pauses just as he steps into the street and turns back to Tommy. The sun is beating down on his head, and every single one of Adam's instincts is telling him to find shade, but instead he holds out his hand to Tommy. 

"Yeah?" Tommy asks, cocking his head and shading his eyes.

"Hell, yeah." Adam waggles his fingers. 

There's relief in Tommy's laughter, as he grabs Adam's hand, and Adam can't help wondering how worried Tommy has been. So he squeezes Tommy's hand and pulls him into his side for a quick one-armed hug.

And then, smiling and laughing, ignoring the click of cameras and the shouts from the paps to look their way, they run for the car.

∞

"Hey, boo." Terrance closes the door to Adam's dressing room behind him and comes to stand next to him. He flicks an imaginary piece of lint off Adam's shoulder, but doesn't say anything.

After a few seconds, when the silence has started to feel way too heavy, Adam puts down the hairspray. "What's up?"

Terrance leans back against the counter, seeming to be assessing Adam. "Tommy," he finally says. "I've seen you with a lot of guys over the years. Some have just been food for the night; others have stuck around for a while. But this guy is different."

"He's Tommy," Adam says. It's not exactly an answer, but it's everything that Adam can say, even to Terrance who he's trusted with his life more than once over the years they've known each other.

"And that could be the problem, if you're not serious about this." Terrance frowns at him. "This is your band, man. Not a good place to shit, even if his presents are awesome."

Leaning back in his chair so he can see Terrance's face clearly, Adam says, his voice hard and flinty enough that even he can hear the threat, "What the fuck makes you think I'm not serious?"

Terrance flinches and Adam smiles at him, a mere baring of teeth that shows just a little fang.

"Tell me," Adam says when Terrance doesn't answer.

"Tommy's crazy about you. Has been for years, even if he's done nothing about it. Why now? If it's just because of the gifts... that's fucked up."

Adam's up and on his feet, chair toppling to the floor behind him, his hand around Terrance's throat before he can even think about it. 

And Terrance grins at him and holds up his hands, as if in surrender. "That's all I wanted to know, boo."

"Fuck you." Adam holds Terrance close enough to clearly smell the blood that he's drunk more times than he can count, and even though he hasn't fed yet, he's not even tempted.

He's not Tommy; his blood isn't that sweet sweet blood that calls to Adam every time he's near Tommy.

"Shit." Adam goes to run a hand through his hair and stops himself. He can't mess it up this close to going on stage. "I'm so fucked if this doesn't work."

"What?"

Adam just shrugs, because he can't explain. Maybe when it's all over. Maybe. If explaining doesn't kill Tommy.

The hug Terrance gives him is fierce and short. "I wanna know," he says. "Don't even think that you can get away without telling me, some day when you feel like you can. Until then, take care of yourself and that man of yours."

"We're working on it."

Halfway to the door, Terrance stops and turns around. The look on his face is unreadable. "Where does this end?"

"What? Where does what end?" Adam's fairly sure he knows what Terrance means, but he needs Terrance to say it out loud, if he's going to admit the truth under the unforgiving fluorescent lights rather than the dimness of his bedroom.

"If I were my great-grandma and living in the Deep South, I'd say that Tommy was courting you. All those gifts and the way he's been giving them to you. But people don't do that anymore, do they?"

Adam's heart stutters, beating a fraction faster than its usual syrup slowness. He tries for an innocent, "Don't they?"

"Guys like us? No. We don't. Not the way Tommy's doing it anyway. And I don't buy that excuse about it being a vampire thing. I've known too many vamps to believe that."

His heart stuttering again, Adam turns away and leans into the mirror to reapply his lip-gloss. When that's done, and Terrance is still waiting, he says, "It's a thing," he says, "and it wouldn't be happening if I wasn't a vampire."

When Terrance doesn't respond, just taps his foot on the floor, Adam adds, "When it's over, you'll know. And it'll either be forever, or it won't be at all. There isn't any in between for us." He only says that much because he trusts Terrance. 

"Just don't fuck up the band." Terrance gives him a wry look. "Brian might never forgive either of you."

Before Adam can reply, there's a rapid flurry of knocks on the door and then Tami opens it and stick her head around it. "Time," she says and disappears.

Adam remains silent as he and Terrance head to the stage to take their marks until it's time for them to split up and go their separate ways. Then, he murmurs, "Just don't let anyone know you're surprised by anything that happens tonight," and vanishes into the wilderness of backstage before Terrance can respond.

∞

The concert is wild. Adam opens himself to the energy from the crowd. It's not as satisfying as blood, but it fills him and feeds a different hunger. And it leaves him wanting.

A wanting that he can't identify until he slides in next to Tommy at the beginning of Naked Love. As Adam sings, the familiar scent of Tommy's blood wraps around him, draws him in. Without missing a note, he slips in behind him, pressing a hand on Tommy's chest and pulling him closer. 

Tommy's warm. His body vibrates slightly from his guitar playing. And Adam stays there too long. He doesn't move until he feels the pressure of Tommy's heel on his toes. Not painful but enough to make him let go.

He whirls away then, sings to the audience and to Ashley, dances with Terrance and Johnny, and over and over again, he returns to Tommy. He's like a moon in orbit around an erratic, ever-moving planet. The band stumbles at one point, jolting Adam out of what feels like a spell. He glares at Brian, who just looked confused and shrugs at him, and then they're off again. 

This time, Adam forces himself to sing to the audience, to pick out faces here and there in the crowd at the front of GA, the ones closest to the rail. The lights make them seem almost like shadows, blinking in and out of his vision, and somehow, that seems perfect. And when the last note of the last song crashes down, he blinks and stares out at the audience for a second, or maybe two, before he remembers that it's time to leave the stage.

In the short break between the main set and the encore, Adam intends to look for Tommy but Brian gets up in his face.

"What the fuck?" Brian asks. "Since when don't you introduce the band?"

Adam's mouth drops open for a second, before he clamps it shut again. He can't come up with a single thing to say before Brian continues.

"It's the last concert, man. You better be planning on doing some groveling." 

"I don't understand. How did I forget?" Adam swallows down the sick feeling that comes with having done something utterly wrong. "I never forget my band. I love you guys."

Brian squeezes his shoulder. "I know. That's why you're forgiven. This time. Just don't fuck up and forget to do it during the encore." 

"Last song. I promise. I'll do it then. Tell the others, please?"

"Yo! Adam! Brian!" The stage manager waves frantically at them; it's past time to run back into the spotlight. 

As soon as Adam opens his mouth, he falls into the music. Notes become words, and Adam becomes the song. He sings and Tommy plays. Voice and guitar intertwine, forming yet another move in this strange courtship between him and Tommy. 

The closer they get to the end of the concert, to the band intros, the more the air seems to thicken with anticipation. There's a strange electricity in the air, of something about to happen that sets off an answering buzz in Adam.

The sensation ratchets up and up as he introduces Rick, Ashley, Terrance and Johnny, Keisha and Reyna, and then Brian. 

Brian blinks at him, laughing and shaking his head, as he plays a short solo. 

Then it's Tommy's turn and Adam's wondering how he got them backward, even as something inside him is saying that he got them in exactly the right order.

Tommy steps out from behind his pedals. His lower lip is tucked into his mouth, and he seems to be completely focused on his music. The screams and cheers from the crowd get louder, and Adam goes to face them.

Between him and the edge, a tree is growing out of the stage. As Tommy plays, it rises to five feet, then six. Branches flow out of it, sprouting twigs, leaves, white flowers, and clumps of red berry-like fruit. 

_Rowan_.

Fear trickling cold down his spine, repelled by the very look and smell of the wood, Adam takes a step back. He glances at Tommy, catches a pleading look in his eyes, and steps forward again. 

Tommy's solo changes, slides from rock into an arpeggio of notes that seems to strike chimes in the air. The tree vibrates and the branch closest to Adam splits, curves, writhes, twines in and out of itself, forming a latticework case. 

"Trust me," Tommy whispers. Or at least Adam thinks he does. It's hard to know for sure with the music curling around him. 

It's enough to get Adam to reach forward and take the case from the tree. His hand burns, the skin crackles black and bleeding, but he holds on to it, even uses his other hand to open it. Inside are two cuffs. 

More rowan wood, braided with a metal that gleams silver and green in the lights, and looking like overlapping scales. Dragons, Adam thinks.

 _Take them_.

The voice isn't Tommy's this time. It's a female voice, as pointed and sharp as thorns, as deadly as the rowan in his hands. Adam backs away again, holding the case away from him. 

The audience seems to hold its breath. 

The band stops playing.

Tommy fills in the silence. His guitar sounds almost like a different instrument, old and unfamiliar, but it wraps around Adam in the same way. 

Adam turns to face him. Blood drips black and red from Adam's hand into the case and onto the stage between them. 

_Do you refuse?_

The woman sounds almost pleased, sweet as venom. 

"No," Adam says aloud, his voice cracking on the word.

Tommy misses a note, his pick scraping across the strings.

"No," Adam repeats with all the confidence he has. "I do not refuse." 

His uninjured hand shaking, he reaches into the case and picks up the cuffs. They're cool to the touch. What he thought was wood is stone, agate of the darkest of greens. 

"Enough," Tommy says. Lifting off his guitar, he places it on the stage. Then he steps over to Adam and knocks the case away, sending it flying into the crowd. He takes Adam's burned hand in one of his own, brings it to his lips, and kisses it. 

And the world splinters around them.

His mouth burning, Tommy closes his eyes and clings to Adam's now-healed hand as Queen Mab's spell whirls them away. He fucking hates this shit. That's probably why the fucking bitch queen chose to transport them this way.

The trip is mercifully short, even if it seems to last forever. And when they arrive, as the Land spins around Tommy and he stumbles on an uneven place in the grass, Adam catches him, holds on to him.

"You okay, baby?"

Trying not to hyperventilate, every breath tearing into the sensitive skin of his mouth where Adam's blood touched it, Tommy presses up against Adam. Their twined hands are trapped between them, pressing into Tommy's sternum, but he doesn't care. He just holds on. 

Until someone clears his throat behind him, and the captain of the Queen's Guard snaps out, "Kneel before your Queen." 

Reluctantly letting go of Adam's hand, Tommy turns, drops to his knees, and bows his head. Adam remains standing behind him with one hand casually resting on Tommy's shoulder. Tommy tenses, fighting the urge to hiss at Adam and tell him to fucking get on his knees before he fucks this up for them. If that's all it takes, Mab was never going to give him this in the first place.

"I see you won your monster, dark child." Mab sounds amused. "And what a beautiful and defiant creature he is."

"Thank you, my Queen." Tommy bites his lip, focusing on that small pain instead of the burning in his mouth.

Adam shifts, but says nothing.

Mab's narrow feet in their sharply pointed satin shoes move into Tommy's view. "A trifle disrespectful though. Both of you, in fact. Appearing before me in such dress."

"We were performing," Adam says. "We're dressed perfectly for that occasion."

"But not for this." 

Mab's magic sweeps over Tommy, prickling his skin with a thousand miniature thorns, turning the smoldering in his mouth into a fire. He endures that, and the crawling sensation of his clothes reforming and his hair changing color from blond to bright blue to suit Mab's whims. But when Adam releases a near-silent pained gasp, Tommy's head snaps up, almost dislodging the hat Mab placed on his head, and he glares at her.

"Oh," she says. "So possessive and protective. I like that... in its proper place."

Adam tightens his grip on Tommy's shoulder, and Tommy can't resist craning his neck to look at him. Adam looks as regal as Mab, especially with his black-painted lips curled into a snarl, displaying his fangs. He's wearing a black top hat, and a grey and black shirt and jacket with elaborate jet beading. His white-grey hair hangs straight and long, to well below his shoulders. 

"Don't fucking try that again." Adam pulls Tommy to his feet and back against his chest with an arm wrapped around him. "My kind are not without power or influence, even in your realm."

Raising one eyebrow, Mab looks at Tommy. He quakes a little, but raises his hand to grasp the arm Adam has around his chest. "Don't ask me to pick sides."

"Perfect. You have my blessing." She brings her hands together in a clap that echoes into thunder and the cracking of lightning from the sky above the palace behind them. Another clap and they're inside the thick stone walls, surrounded by courtiers. 

The two cuffs sit on a tray made from elven silver that hovers in the air between them and Queen Mab. A cushioned stool stands beside them. Tommy's heart trips a beat and something catches in his chest as he recognizes the battered lute leaning against it.

"Play for me," Mab orders. "Bless this ritual, these couples, with your music." 

This time when Tommy glances around, he sees four other couples, two on either side of them. All of them are elves, except Adam. An old friend, Mai'ana, waves at him from next to a purple-haired elf. Tommy smiles at her, hissing at the pain, and gives her a small wave back. 

"Tommy?"

He smiles at Adam. "It's okay. I've already agreed to this." Picking up his lute, Tommy sits on the stool and waits for it to adjust to his height. 

"That's not what I meant," Adam says, kneeling in front of him and gently touching Tommy's lower lip. "Your mouth, what's happened?"

"It's okay," Tommy says, then when Adam frowns at him, adds, "Or at least it will be." Then, forcing Adam to shift backwards, he brings the lute into position and spends a few minutes tuning it to his satisfaction. Adam's doesn't say anything else, but Tommy can feel his unhappiness.

Looking down at his lute, Tommy plucks a string and then another. The music he learned from his uncle comes back to him. Notes cascade from his lute, and he opens up to it, giving it access to his magic and his pain, but it's not enough. The storm continues to rage outside. The thunder grows in strength, and the lightning cracks louder and brighter. He closes his eyes, tries again, repeating the same notes. 

Nothing changes. 

The third time, he feels Adam move to sit on the floor next to him, resting against his side. Then Adam begins to sing. His voice rises and falls with the sounds Tommy draws from his lute, winding in and out and around it, filling it out. Thunder crashes, lightning beats to the same rhythm, slowing, slowing, slowing, as Tommy and Adam bring the music down, down, down. 

When they rest, let the notes die down and the silence build up, the storm vanishes. And when they begin again, lighter, faster, moonlight shines in through the windows up near the ceiling and falls upon them. 

"Blessings," Mab says, as Tommy stills the strings of his lute and listens to Adam's last note fade away. 

This time her magic is a rush of warmth, a fleeting touch that flickers over them in a flash of deepest black. And when it's over, when Tommy can see again, his mouth is healed and a cuff is locked around his left wrist. The green agate is flecked with dark red, stained with Adam's blood, both promise and protection.

Smiling, Tommy turns to Adam. As he'd hoped, Adam's left arm has the matching cuff. 

"Fuck yeah," Tommy murmurs, laying his lute down carefully. 

He nips at Adam's lip, drawing a groan from him. Adam slots his right hand over Tommy's throat and takes over the kiss, deepens it. He thrusts his tongue into Tommy's mouth, filthy hot and sloppily perfect. Tommy leans into him, opens up to him, and slowly, deliberately, drags his tongue over one of Adam's fangs. Blood wells hot and coppery inside their mouths, and Adam sucks on Tommy's tongue.

Fire, arousal, licks through Tommy like dragon fire, magic crawls over them, and the world starts spinning around them again.

This time, when they land, Tommy doesn't fall. Adam's holding him too tightly for that. The crowd roars, screaming Adam's name, and artificial fog dissipates around them. They're back on stage, looking just like they did when they left except for the cuffs around their wrists. It seems like almost no time has passed in the human world.

"Fucking bitch," Adam mutters. 

"She's pure Unseelie, dude," Tommy whispers in reply. "What the fuck else did you expect?"

The crowd noise grows, as they stamp their feet, making the arena echo and seem to vibrate. Adam turns to Brian, beckons him close. 

"One more song? We could add one of the old ones back in?" 

"Which one?" 

"Voodoo," Tommy suggests.

Brian shakes his head. "Don't have the tracks for it. What about Strut?"

"Dragon Attack," Adam says. 

"Not tired of it any longer?" Brian teases him. 

"Nevah!" Adam presses a hand to his chest and pretends to swoon.

Tommy snickers and bends down to pick up his guitar. The world swirls around him, and he presses a hand on the splintered wooden stage. But the dizziness passes before anyone else notices, so he uses the hand to push himself to his feet. 

While the band's getting ready, Adam talks to the audience. Tommy hears occasional catcalls and even his name once or twice, but he ignores them. Then they hit the first note, and Tommy falls into the magic that is music and into Adam. 

Adam's singing and strutting around the stage, doing the goofy dance moves that always make Tommy want to jump his bones. The feeling increases as he plays his solo and Adam falls to his knees to slide his mic up the frets. Tommy rocks his hips forward, mimics thrusting into Adam's mouth, and almost loses it when Adam licks his lips. When Adam rises to his feet and slips away, Tommy almost follows him, drawn by the aching need rising under his skin. He has a pedal to stomp, however, so he lets Adam go. 

Leaving the stage is the usual madhouse. While Tommy is racking his guitar, Adam is caught by the promoter, the tour manager, and the production manager. They talk to him all the way to the dressing room, not even noticing Tommy a few feet behind them. 

Adam knows he's there, though. He winks at Tommy just as he pushes open the door. 

"Just one more thing," Tami says, obviously intending to follow Adam inside. 

"No," Adam says. "No more things. I'm two minutes away from getting naked and hitting the shower, and I really don't want to be talking to any of you at the time. Later."

They stand outside his dressing room, talking for a few minutes, more than long enough for Tommy to lose his patience and decide to go for it anyway.

"'Scuse me." Tommy slips between them. 

He's turning the door handle when Tami says, "He's busy."

Before Tommy can reply, the door opens and a long bare arm reaches out, grabs the front of Tommy's shirt, and drags him inside. 

"I thought they were going to fucking crawl into the shower with you." Tommy rises up on his toes, curls his fingers into Adam's shirt for balance, and presses their lips together. He's desperate, kissing him like he's breathing him in.

Adam steps forward, crowds him against the door, making it rattle. A gasp sounds from the other side, and even Tommy can hear them scurrying away.

"Oh my god," Adam says. "I thought they'd never leave."

They're laughing as they move away from the door, toward the bathroom. Tommy shrugs off his jacket and kicks off his boots, leaving them where they fall. Removing his socks is more difficult, while walking, but Adam doesn't let him fall. 

The rest of their clothes are stripped off without ceremony and tossed towards the costume racks. And then, they squeeze into the shower. Hot water falls onto them, runs over them in rivulets, warming up Adam's skin.

Tommy reaches up and shoves a wet hank of hair out of his face. He darts a kiss against the edge of Adam's jaw. "Mine," he says. "Fucking remember that." 

"Yes," Adam replies, pressing into Tommy and ending up with the full force of the water in his face. The tip of his fang scratches Tommy's lip as he tries to laugh and kiss at the same time. 

Slowly, deliberately, staring into Adam's eyes, Tommy sweeps his tongue over his lip and licks away the tiny drop of blood. 

A growl vibrates Adam's chest, and he nips at Tommy's mouth. "Oh fuck, the way you taste."

"Too fucking gentle," Tommy says. "I won't break. Unless I want to." 

He smiles at Adam, making sure Adam's watching, and then he draws his lower lip between his teeth. The tiny cut is a tiny pain, and it's not fucking enough. So he bites hard, pulls at the chapped skin with his teeth, tearing the skin.

Adam's eyes widen. Red flickers at the edges of his irises and his pupils expand, black swallowing up almost all of the blue-grey. He growls again, deeper and full of the same need, the same hunger that echoes in Tommy's chest. 

The kiss deepens. Tommy's lip keeps bleeding. Adam sucks and nibbles and licks.

Then he grabs Tommy's wrists with his left hand and draws them over his head. The stretch rides the edge of uncomfortable, of too much, but it's absolutely perfect. Pressing a leg between Tommy's, Adam pins him to the plastic wall of the shower. The edges of their cuffs clack together, jam into Tommy's arm.

Tommy's heart thumps in his chest. He rocks up against Adam's thigh, grinding against him, making sure to rub against Adam's dick. Tommy's heart beats again and he slows down his thrusts, matching them to the heavy, aching rhythm of his heart.

Adam groans. He runs his tongue over Tommy's lip again and then licks his way down to Tommy's throat. 

Magic sparks like electricity in Tommy's veins. It sizzles in the water. He wants to kiss Adam, wants to climb into him. He undulates against Adam's thigh, riding it, speeding up his thrusts, and he turns his head, baring the length of his neck.

"Need you," Adam says, his voice rough and raw. "Waited so long." 

A moan of "Please" is all that Tommy can manage, and then Adam's mouth is against his jugular, his fangs slowly sinking into him. It's pain and heat. The coppery sweet-salt scent of Tommy's blood fills the small area, and Tommy moves faster and faster. Adam's hand around his wrist, Adam's fangs in his neck, Adam's leg between his, are holding him up, but they can't ground him, can't stop him from shuddering and flying apart as he comes.

Adam holds him up, hugs him close, kisses his neck. 

"Mine," he says. 

And all Tommy can say in response is, "Yours."

**Author's Note:**

> When I got the idea for this story, I talked with @Wynkat1313. She graciously shared her knowledge of the meanings behind the four elements that I used for the gifts and to set the structure of this story. For those who are curious, she gave me the following meanings:
> 
>  **Air:**  
>  \- yellow or light blue  
> \- morning, the rising Sun, new beginnings, intellect and knowledge, ideas, that first spark that will lead to other things  
> \- wind, sky, anything associated with air so atmosphere and space clouds, etc.  
> \- spring
> 
>  **Fire:**  
>  \- red, orange, gold  
> \- midday, the sun at high noon, heat, anything burning, volcanoes, campfires, etc.  
> \- passion, will, that which drives us to make our ideas happen  
> \- summer
> 
>  **Water:**  
>  \- blue, purple  
> \- twilight, the moon, oceans, lakes, rivers anything wet  
> \- dreams, wishes, hopes - those things that lie beneath the surface  
> \- autumn
> 
>  **Earth:**  
>  \- midnight, mountains, trees, grass, grain, anything and everything that is life-giving and life taking (so death falls in here too), snow, ice  
> \- black or white, so the darkness of the deep night with a bright white of the midnight sun  
> \- manifestation, money artifacts, the things we create. Based on our ideas, our will and our passion. and some would say silence  
> \- winter


End file.
